I keep apologizing for making you guys wait, but really I do feel bad since I should've updated before now. What can I say? Life got a bit hairy toward the end of the school year what with giving exams and all... and then when I returned to this chapter... Well, let's just say I hated it. So I got frustrated and put it aside, figuring that an objective eye would be better later on. Then I talked with my bestie (who is also my original fic editor) and I got inspired to write a certain project I'd been promising her for a while. More on that later. Now, I feel like I can sort of breathe again as I try to get my life in order.
For some reason, I just sat down and wrote this. That is to say...
I've rewritten it.
So, I kinda like it a bit better now. I don't know.
At any rate, I apologize again. I can't promise regular updates per se because the other original fic is still ongoing. You can read it on inkitt. It's called "The Night Runners: Year One" written by 'scarecrowslady'. I need to get it done before my bestie's bday (in October) because it might be the theme for her party. I'm trying to get my eating habits in order (I tend to forget to eat/don't eat a lot of healthy foods) as well as my house in order (decluttering!). Furthermore, school has begun AGAIN and I'm doubling my classes for a couple weeks for various vacation-type reasons. I'm also ill with a cold and allergies and am on meds right now... (rubs her pained chest) So maybe this chapter is actually crap after all and I just think it's good.
Please let me know!
Thanks to all my reviewers! I do love you guys and appreciate your words! I don't deserve you guys!
Chapter 85
Turning the Tide I
[…and here time once again turns…]
[…and the Fates weave another tapestry…]
[…a new age mirroring its sisters…]
[…reflected and distorted…]
Like a wire snapping from extreme tension, the entire room exploded into action. Fury began talking with his subordinate, Hill, attempting to ascertain the situation and extent of the initial damage before he arrived on the command deck. Apparently, the Helicarrier's left forward turbines had just exploded.
Watching his notepad and pen slide a little on the slightly tipping counter, Loki's eyebrows rose.
"We lost one of the engines," Fury was shouting over the wail of sirens. "We are under attack. Stark! Rogers! Get on it! Romanov, keep an eye on Banner! You know what to do."
"Yes, Director," the red-headed woman nodded.
"I guess we're suiting up after all," Stark was still talking as he darted out the awkwardly stabilizing room, followed hard by a muttering Captain America.
As the floor gained a modicum of leveling, Loki released his grip on the counter.
"We are stuck in a flying death trap," he said grimly. "Thor, we need a ship. We may not have pinpointed the location of the Tesseract exactly but the closer we get, we could-"
"I cannot leave SHIELD," Thor shook his head, glancing around. "We need to help them!"
"We are helping them!" Loki countered. "In the long run, at the very least."
Loki twisted around to eye the scientist named Banner who was being calmed by the red-headed woman. Romanov.
"There is something wrong here, Thor," he said.
"Ahhh..." Thor glanced around, his blue eyes clouding with worry. "That is an understatement, Loki."
"It's the Scepter. It's more than a channeling stone-"
Suddenly, a new set of alarms began to ring and red lights began to flare. Some kind of code unknown to Loki was called out on repeat.
"Intruders on board!" Thor yelled in explanation, forcing his way to the door and looking down the hallway. It was obvious to Loki that Thor was torn between the duty of protecting him and that of protecting his friends.
"The Helicarrier is under attack-" Natasha's voice was overpowered by a loud crash.
Before she could finish her sentence, the glass wall, where the Scepter lay, exploded under a hail of projectiles. Thor and Romanov dove to the floor, but after the initial explosion, Loki noticed that Banner had disappeared. A large, green, heavily muscled man stood in the quiet scientist's place with the barest remnants of torn clothing stretched around its wrists, neck and waist. Loki froze, not realizing until too late that the red-head was screaming at him about a duck – and then there was more broken glass, flying pieces of metal and ricocheting projectiles as the huge monster tore off a piece of metal wall as if it were paper, hurled it at the hovering hostile ship outside, severed said ship in half and proceeded to rip apart the room in a blind rage.
With a forward roll, Loki reached the far corner, grabbed the Scepter and Stark's tablet now on the floor, and darted to Thor's side behind one of the remaining desks. Thor stared down at the tablet and Scepter blankly.
"Stark's program is still attempting to pinpoint the Tesseract's exact location," yelled Loki. "You must carry this to safety."
"You cannot take on the Hulk-" Romanov stopped at the look in Loki's eye. "Look - Wait-"
Whatever she was about to say ended as the entire room's floor caved in, depositing the Hulk, the red-head and Loki into some kind of spacious grey storage bay. Looking down through the gaping hole in dismay, Thor called for his brother – and all he got in return was a resounding crash and an Asgardian oath. With a curse of his own, Thor realized Fury, long disappeared off to the bridge, was in no position to restrain Loki, much less the Hulk.
"Thor." It was Natasha, looking up at him. "Don't worry. We can handle it."
"What happened to Banner?"
"Nothing unexpected," she reassured him.
"Another SHIELD experiment?"
"Hm... it's a little more complicated than that."
"It always is," Thor grunted. "You will keep an eye on Loki?"
"Yeah," Natasha nodded. "I will."
"Is he there?"
"Down the room," Natasha gave Thor an unreadable look. "Did you see the bullets bouncing off of him? Off Loki?"
"Loki is of Asgard-" Thor paused.
And of Jotunheim...
"Uh-huh, well, he'll be the Hulk's new plaything..." She paused, glanced to one side and seemed to notice something. "Honestly, Loki and I can hold our own-"
"He will not be-"
"Look, the ship can't bear the stress." Natasha sighed. "We need to pin the Hulk down or get him off. At this rate, we're gonna be closer to the ground than I would like – so in the end, the Hulk and Loki may be the only survivors. Get that stuff to Coulson or Fury. That's what's important-"
"He needs to get off the carrier," Loki suddenly appeared at Natasha's side with a swirl of green. "Away from that – that stone. I can hear it – the minds of the possessed resonate with this. Thor. This may be another one. Another Infinity Gem."
"Just what we need," Thor sighed. "I will return it to Coulson or Fury for safe-keeping. For now."
"For now," Loki agreed.
Thor gave Loki a weary look and backed away slowly.
"Take care, brother."
"I will," Loki nodded, "and you take care of yourself as well."
The two nodded and Loki disappeared and a frustrated roar resounded from below, echoing down the long chamber. Meeting Natasha's eyes with the unspoken words – 'take care of him' – Thor turned away. Glaring at the tablet and Scepter and feeling even more powerless and useless than usual, the blonde still-human left the room.
-0-0-0-
The sound of gunfire resounded about the Command Deck as three infiltrators opened fire. Huddled below their desks, carefully making their way to and out of a side door, the support staff found it difficult to see through the haze of smoke and dust. The remaining men and women on deck, having received combat training, covered for the escaping staff and efficiently worked on targeting and boxing in the attacking militia.
Scanning the various beams, the slowly drifting smoke and the alternating shadowed, then red-lit parts of the room, Fury noticed that the returning fire was thinning out – but then he stiffed as one of the far doors opened and then shut on a familiar set of shoulders. A glint of metal in a pack. Arrows. Hawkeye.
"Romanov," Fury said quietly, flipping to her channel.
"Here."
"Barton just left the Command Deck. He may be after Flarathir-"
"Or the Scepter," Natasha replied softly.
"Or an exit route."
"Or all of the above. I'll keep an eye out," said the assassin. "The big guy is tearing through some of the best routes Clint would take. I'm sure we'll meet up."
"Get Loki to lead the Hulk up to the flight deck. We need that guy off the ship like yesterday."
"On it."
"I'm counting on you," Fury said grimly.
Directing his focus back on the task before him, Fury signalled to Hill and her three men. Within ten minutes, the two met in the middle of the room, surveying the damage. Dusty haze now settling, it looked like a war zone with twisted metal, broken glass, torn and tattered furniture, drifting blackened pieces of paper, the silent dead and groaning wounded. Glancing at Hill and noticing belatedly that one side of her face was covered in blood, Fury sighed.
Even if the blood is hers... Hill won't go to the Infirmary – not yet. It may not be. If we're lucky.
"Rogers and Stark will have the turbines on in no time-"
Suddenly the whole room tipped further as a second engine died. Without warning, a bunch of support staff raced into the room, tripping over debris and bodies in a desperate bid to get to their now abandoned controls and regain the ship's equilibrium.
"Stark!" bellowed Fury. "What the hell is going on with my ship?"
"Working on that," Stark's tense voice broke in.
-0-0-0-
Once Stark's suit snapped shut around him and the inventor had snapped his equally red and gold helmet shut, JARVIS began sending all of the data he was currently receiving from his broad area scands of the ship. With great satisfaction, the AI had already caught the signal of, tracked and circumvented an odd program skulking around one of the consoles on the command deck – an odd program which had been connected through a small drive, had successfully shut down the second turbine of the ship, accelerating its dive through the clouds, and was currently attempting to dump its data amongst the insanity of the Command Deck. Fury's angry call to Stark a few minutes later confirmed the AIs suspicions. While swiftly yet carefully disengaging the damaging protocols of the program and simultaneously reporting the situation to Stark, JARVIS interrupted the chunks of data which it had corrupted, reinstated on roll-back the default processing system and restarted the turbine.
"Good work, JARVIS," Stark said as he shot off the side of the Helicarrier through a broken window and flew round to the fourth turbine, great blades silent and still. "At least we'll hit the ocean with more control, decorum... and style. We're all about the style around here." A pause and Stark's eye twitched as his screen flickered over and highlighted a familiar figure. "Well, I say 'we'... You finally joining the party, Rogers?"
"I ran into some interference-"
"That's what she said," quipped Stark as he rolled began to read the freshest data from JARVIS's initial schematic scan of the blades. One was going to have to come off. Stark sighed. "Thought of changing your name? Like... uh... Captain Tardy? 'Cause you're always runn- Shit. I'm gonna have to tear..."
Stark trailed off as he began to calculate exactly what he could remove without entirely destroying the function of the turbine. Shit, he thought, it's a huge mess. The rounded edges of the circular turbine which previously had glinted with powerful glory beneath the sun now shone dully, dented and torn and nicked. Yep. One blade's gotta go and a bit of the outer-
"What's happened?"
"Well, we have good news and bad news," Stark said to no one in particular.
"The bad news?" Fury's sharp voice asked over the channel helpfully opened by JARVIS.
"Even if I manage to get the debris off and away and even if I manage to somehow kick start it," Stark darted down and then up between the two blades to wrest away several strips of torn metal, "control of the turbine is impossible unless we reset the programming on the main board."
"OK." Fury prompted, "And the good news?"
"The hub is more or less in tact and only one blade has gotta go. The rest should be fine," Stark tilted his head thoughtfully. "Ish."
"Rogers, can you get to the," Stark paused, recalibrated his vocabulary, and simplified, "control panel?"
"Sure thing," Rogers's voice sounded confident. "Uh, where is it?"
"You'll have to go down one level. I can see some promising paneling on the schematics JARVIS just downloaded. It's located by a catwalk that kinda goes to nowhere now," Iron Man flew down closer to the open hole in the ship's side where a load of processors had once kept control of the turbines and monitored the diagnostics of the great engines powering the ship. "But yeah, if you turn it on at the same time as I kick-start it, so to speak, well, the carrier will be able to fly, well, limp home."
"The point is," Fury cut in dryly, "to get home."
"Yeah, well, the turbine is the least of our problems," Stark had to point out. Perversely. "JARVIS just let me know that evil Dumbledore is acting oddly. Might wanna keep an eye out on that. If you haven't blown out ALL the monitors over there. JARVIS, get those channels up for them. Rogers, you get down to the level yet?"
"I found a handy stairwell. So, yes, I've been here for a while now... you know, waiting."
"Story of your life," Stark smirked.
-0-0-0-
With an enraged roar that could overwhelm the most courageous of warriors, the Hulk charged forward down another long storage room – a large green blur of muscle and rage. A giant fist rose and fell flattening several large containers which had been filled with spare mechanical parts, scattering pieces of metal and wood and plastic everywhere. No word of reason nor force of might appeared capable of stopping the giant man's rampage. Man is stretching it a little, Loki thought. He is almost nothing like the scientist I had met earlier... His hair, perhaps, and his now rather torn pants...
"He needs to be stopped," Loki murmured to the red-headed woman who crouched at his side.
"I don't wanna hurt him," Natasha whispered.
Loki raised an eyebrow. "That is the least of our concerns," he grunted. "I would wager the creature-"
"The Hulk," Natasha corrected Loki sharply. "He's the Hulk – and Bruce is somewhere in there. I know it."
Shifting a little, the better to peer around the pile of containers they were currently hiding behind, Loki paused.
"You care for him despite what he is, what he has done... and what he is about to do?" Loki turned back to give the red-headed assassin an assessing look. "You care for him."
"Yes. I promised-" Natasha looked away. "I promised to take care of him."
"A personal promise you could not hope to keep."
"And yet... I did."
"Hm."
"To... have to be labeled a monster for something one has no control over..." Natasha sighed. "I understand that to a certain extent. Maybe you can't-"
"I can," Loki said tersely before adding: "But I would rather discuss the theoretics once the danger of losing my limbs is past."
"We need to get him to the top deck and away from the internal engines and energy generators."
"Agreed."
"So we're the bait," Natasha sighed.
"In a manner of speaking," Loki pressed her back, halting her movement forward. "There are other ways. Give me a few moments and I will attempt to draw upon some magick..."
Glancing at Loki uncertainly, the human woman eased back and watched as the dark-haired, too pale god hunkered down, hands lax upon his knees, head tipped back and eyes shut. Judging by the Loki's harsh breathing, gathering magick was no easy business but after a few minutes (during which the Hulk seemed to be obsessed with battering his way past a set of double-reinforced steel doors), Loki's right hand lifted and twisted producing a guttering flame of green within his palm. A finger trailed in the air in an odd kind of circular yet angular kind of way. It looked like a kind of sign and upon completion, Natasha realized that another Loki and Natasha now stood in the middle of the storage area.
"Where to?" gasped Loki, looking more like he was about to faint and less like he was up for a high speed tailing exercise.
Natasha glanced around and winced momentarily before pointing at a wall. "We need to get him through there and up a ramp and out to the central flight deck."
"He will make the door himself, I imagine." A fleeting look of amusement crossed Loki's face.
"Exactly."
Without further ado, Loki motioned with his left hand and, as the two illusions moved to the far wall, he rose to his feet behind the container and peered around his edge of the metal box to watch the Hulk's reaction. The Hulk, turning and catching sight of the two illusions, roared and charged after them, pausing only momentarily as the illusions appeared to pass through the wall. As Natasha had suspected, the Hulk easily battered his way through the steel plating and a few seconds later another roar announced the Hulk's renewed determination to catch the two insects who had taunted him.
"Now to lead him upwards to the deck you spoke of," Loki smiled.
"The Hulk isn't stupid," Natasha frowned. "He should know it's an illusion! Then what?"
"Maybe he doesn't mind chasing an illusion." Loki gave Natasha an unreadable look. "Maybe there's something more within the monster than you think."
With that, the two followed the trail of destruction which the Hulk had left in his wake. Loki, finding it more difficult to draw breath than he liked, cursed. I am still not as well as I ought to be, he thought grimly, yet I have no choice. If Thor knew how weak I truly am, he would not have left me.
Somehow, that thought brought more strength to the exiled prince's tired limbs. Loki turned and realized that Natasha had dropped behind. Skidding around the corner and staggering to a stop, Loki made his way back and nearly bumped into assassin.
"I'm here," she said tersely. "Keep going! He can't let him get too far ahead!"
"Did you not say that the Director would have his contingency plan ready by the time the Hulk reached the surface?" Loki asked. "If that is the case, we would be better used elsewhere."
Thor. That stone bodes ill.
"Loki." Natasha jerked on the tall man's elbow and dragging him to the side of a window. Cautiously peering around the corner through the window, she stared down at rows of catwalks below where a familiar figure was making his way across to the far end of the large engineering room. The set of the shoulders and the sheath of arrows was unmistakeable. "My hunch paid off after all," she whispered.
"What is it?" Loki asked testily.
"Barton," Natasha gritted her teeth. "He's right there! I think he's headed back to one of the side exits! We need to get him back!"
"I thought you said you wanted to follow the Hulk," Loki hissed back.
Catching a glimpse of her face, Loki pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He knew that look – the anxious gaze of a heart that cares. A friend who would die for a friend, or a brother for a brother.
"You follow him." Loki glared at the floor. "If it is what you must do, then you must do it."
"Loki-"
"I will continue after the Hulk and ensure he reaches the flight deck as you promised your Captain."
"Thank you, Loki," Natasha gave Loki a wide and genuine, if brief, smile. "I owe you one."
Watching her dart around a corner to a small side staircase, Loki frowned. Owe me one of what?
[…can we change the errors of what never was…]
[…can we mold the future of what we wish to be…]
It was a scene from one of his worst nightmares – a room of death. Instead of seeing the dead bodies of Sif, Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun, however, these were faces of newer, yet still dear friends. Three guards, tossed like rag dolls over the guard rails, hung limply. Thor, just looking at large holes in their chest, knew without looking that the men were dead. His gaze was fixed on another who sat, back to the wall, with a large gash across his torso. It was Coulson. Thor raced to the man's side, dropped the Scepter and tablet, and tossed aside a large unfamiliar, yet familiar looking, gun which lay across the man's lap.
"By the Norns," Thor whispered, his voice laced with anger and sorrow, blue eyes glittering with unshed tears. "You will live-"
-and if you do not, I will avenge your death, honorable thought it may be.
Gently, his fingers searched for signs of life. There was a weak flutter of pulse in response. Thank the Norns, Thor thought. Perhaps the damage is not as bad as I feared. I will need to administer first aid immediately – but first – call for a medical team, if there is one to be had. Jumping up, Thor made his way as quickly as he could, despite the rocking of the ship, to reach the nearest comm station. Thor punched in the numbers for the direct line to the medical ward.
"Yes?" A rather harried voice answered the phone.
"We need a medical unit in the containment section immediately! It is Coulson. I'll apply first aid."
"What kind of wound?" The voice immediately got sharper at the mention of Coulson's name.
"A large cut to the chest."
"Apply pressure. We will be there."
Thor knew already what to do. I was born in the heat of war, and I have, if not participated in war, done battle. Such wounds are familiar to me… Fingers fumbling with anxiety, Thor pulled a drawer out from the wall by the main door where all first aid kits were stored for emergency measures. Grabbing the white box within, Thor raced back to Coulson, checked his pulse and carefully pulled the man's outer suit jacket away. With what power I have within me, I will do what I can. Not daring to pull too roughly at the thin shirt below for fear of disturbing the cut skin and releasing more blood, Thor gently peeled back what pieces of fabric he could before he double-checked the agent's lungs and applied the thick bandages. Then the blonde warrior sealed and bound what he could, hoping that the blood slow trickle would be adequately staunched. The cut, Thor noted idly, is slightly cauterized. No doubt by the burn of magick. This actually gives him a chance to survive since the loss of blood was probably not as bad as it could have been…
Still, Thor was unnerved by the sight before him. The usually dapper cool-headed agent looked as white as a corpse and as frail as a leaf. His breath was rapid and light and Thor could see a hint of blood within the edges of his otherwise pale lips, hinting at internal bleeding. Cursing quietly, Thor busied with finishing his first aid procedures, positioning the agent so the unconscious man could breathe easier and double checking the knots across the agent's chest.
Thor sat back, looked at his handiwork, and sighed. Perhaps today I saved a life, Thor mused. If I did… my time here was not in vain. Still, his thoughts wandered for a moment to Loki, I feel… I feel so useless. Looking down at the silent man, Thor believed he could hear a voice in his heart that sounded a little bit like Coulson, a little bit like his therapist. Small deeds have their own great consequences.
Perhaps it was his mother.
Thor frowned, shook his head, and focused on the issue at hand. The medical team had not yet arrived. Have they not been dispatched? Why have they not arrived? Rising to his feet, Thor turned toward the hallway opening – and froze.
Flarathir stood there, proud and tall. Despite the fact that robes on his chest appeared to have been burned, his beard was singed and his skin looked a little more wrinkled than usual, Flarathir held an aura of confidence and power. His dark eyes glittered as he survived the exiled Prince.
"So," his voice dripped with scorn, "our exiled Prince mucks about with the swine as usual. You always did have a taste for… lower company."
"You refer to the Midgardians?" Thor asked, jaw tense as his hands curled into fists.
"Your warriors, your… brother." Flarathir's grin sharpened. "These humans – what is the difference?"
"I hear spite," Thor said softly, "but perhaps there is jealousy as well."
"Is it possible the Prince has gained the powers of insight?" laughed Flarathir. "I think not. I would not be jealous of their scrabbling efforts for power, for control…"
"The Midgardians do not wish for control of the universe or the galaxy-"
"Perhaps not," Flarathir smiled then – and a shadow of something like regret and pain and fear crossed his face. "Perhaps not, but they reach for control nevertheless: control of their destiny."
"You think this is your destiny?" Thor asked in disbelief. "You are a great man of knowledge, a mage of Asgard and a warrior in your own right. You of all people have the power to change-"
"A man cannot change Fate," Flarathir swept his hand to the side. A gust of wind rushed at Thor, throwing him back and pinning him against the wall. "I know you look optimistically to the future, my young prince – but that is the ignorance of youth, just as they…" Here, Flarathir glanced at Coulson's prone figure. "Just as they, in the ignorance of their humanity, attempt to save themselves. It will all be for naught. Have you not seen it? Have you not heard it?"
"Seen what? Heard what?" gasped Thor, trying to struggle out of his invisible bonds and failing.
"Loki has heard it. He has seen it. Even now, he stands on the edge of that precipice… I heard, I saw but I refused to understand," Flarathir's voice dropped to a whisper. Then he gave a short bark of laughter that sounded just a little bit too thin and sharp for Thor's comfort. "Then, one day, I understood – and with understanding is acceptance."
"The path before you will not aid you-"
"Aid me? Aid me?" Flarathir's crazed laughter rang around the room. "No one can aid me, my dear young prince. But," here his voice dropped lower and his hand twisted into another sigil, allowing Thor to collapse to the floor before he sent sharp, invisible knives of wind to disable the young warrior. "I know of One who can free me of all such burdens."
Before Thor could collect himself, Flarathir once again threw the prince across the room, strode over to Coulson, ignored Thor's anguished cry, bent over the man, shrugged, and picked up the Scepter. Flarathir turned it over in his hand and sighed.
"Put that down."
A familiar voice rang through the room.
"Loki!" Thor gasped, attempting to raise himself to his feet. "What are you doing here? You were supposed to go after Doctor Banner! You should not be here!"
"And what of you?" asked Loki, as he turned the corner of the hallway and stepped up onto the circular catwalk. In his hands was the large gun which Thor had tossed aside earlier. "You do not look too good yourself."
"Loki," Flarathir's eyes glinted.
"Put the Scepter down."
"I am afraid I still have use for it," Flarathir sighed gently. "Besides, I think you would be more interested in saving… your brother."
The gun's barrel did not waver. Behind Loki, the sounds of banging could be heard.
"The medics!" Thor staggered to his feet and began to make his way to Loki's side.
"I will say it only one last time," Loki's voice tersely hammered out the syllables as his grip on the gun tightened.
"You are in no position to bargain," Flarathir said calmly. "The gun you hold in your hand has an odd power of its own, but it cannot destroy us. I discovered that the hard way," Flarathir gestured at his torn robes.
"Not if I infuse my own power with that of the Tesseract," Loki's returning smile was wide and matched with an aggressive insanity. "I have walked those spaces and I have seen the Void. The Midgardians know not of what they have wielded and their utilization of the Tesseract is like that of a child swinging a great sword – but there is enough - enough for me."
Flarathir paused, his grey brows knitted together as his eyes narrowed. To Thor, Loki and Flarathir seemed like statues, pictures of resistance and obstinacy. Neither of them allowed their gaze to falter in the renewed battle for dominance. Thor glancing down noticed the slight twitch of Flarathir's fingertips barely seen past the edge of his robe's long sleeves.
"Loki!" Thor lunged forward, yanked his brother back and down.
Loki fell back just in time to miss a destructive burst of wind which tore into the wall beyond the place in which they had been standing moments before. Gazing down at Loki's wide green eyes, Thor sighed with relief as his brother struggled to his feet. For some reason, Thor couldn't hear anything. There was only silence and fluctuating colors both dark and bright. The world was slanting sideways and Thor caught a glimpse of Loki's mouth moving. Loki's face filled his narrowing vision and Thor struggled to smile. Judging by the wild fire in Loki's eyes, the throbbing vein on his brother's temple, and the red flush which spread over Loki's face, his younger brother was not happy.
Of course Loki would be angry if I saved him, Thor thought as he collapsed onto the catwalk. I suppose he wouldn't be Loki otherwise…
[…in the end, however, they say…]
[…good may triumph…]
[…in the end, they say…]
[…despite all odds, the balance between light and dark is maintained…]
[…and the cycles continue…]
What is Valhalla? The stories, he had heard as a child, spoke of golden halls and endless feasts and glorious maids and eternal life of joy.
What is Valhalla? Odin All-Father had spoken of his brothers long gone and his father lost to war. 'Valhalla,' he had said, 'is the home of our fathers, where they sit and wait for us to join them.'
What is Valhalla? Frigga of Vanaheim had other stories from her people. 'Valhalla,' she explained to her young son, 'is different for every people, yet in a way, I believe, it is the same. Whatever you call it, if you heart be true, you will find your way there.'
What is Valhalla? Loki had not believed in Valhalla when they had first met. The bitter young man of the fighting pits had once said that after death there was darkness and nothingness. Such finality in despair…
He understood now. Loki had come from darkness and saw only before him more darkness. Like Flarathir. Yet he refused to believe that. Not quite like Flarathir. Loki still fought. Somewhere in Loki, a hope had been birthed. What had Loki seen beyond the darkness? Perhaps he had seen his own version of Valhalla…
Valhalla is different for every people, yet in a way, I believe, it is the same. Whatever you call it, if you heart be true, you will find your way there.
This was not Valhalla. This was a soft darkness which slowly gave way to grey and then a blinding light as something familiar drew him up to the surface – the unconscious song of his youth: the fire of Asgard within his soul and heart and the cry of Mjolnir.
[…in the end, they say…]
[…despite all odds, the balance between light and dark is maintained…]
[…and the cycles continue…]
Well, sigh, there you go. I think it's much better than what I had planned before. Plus, I managed to fold some of my planned timeline into one chapter... which is just sweetness. Does it feel rushed? It probably does. Lots of running around and people talking and not a lot of description. I'll have to edit this later, I think. (tears)
At any rate, you can see here that I'm trying to combat what I feel to be one of the weakness of the Thor MCU mythos - that is how Thor gets his powers back. It just seemed to simple and easy. A weekend away from home and you figure it out and get with the program and learn your lesson after an extended lifetime of douchery? COME ON NOW, C'MON!
So this is my answer to the dilemma of Thor's 'return'. I hope it makes more sense and feels a bit more authentic within this framework of a story.
Thanks for reading! (and reviewing~!)
KI
To Elizabeth: You are an awesome person. Your little note the other day really electrified me and made me feel a bit more guilty than usual. I will be honest - like most people who have a talent in one area - I struggle with periods of self-doubt, but your message reminded me that people DO like this story and are sad I haven't updated. So here's an update~ I hope you like it.